It Never Happened
by me38242
Summary: Things that could have happened in Let Me Help You, but didn't. Some other ways that societally inept kids could turn out, going through puberty. I just branched off on what-ifs, and potential possibilities. Warning: actual lemonish stuff.
1. Love

Hmm.. So basically, throughout the course of thinking about Let Me Help You and writing it, I realized at some point how many actual **choices** I actually had to make in writing that story and making it what it is right now. Afterall, it was (and still is, being ongoing..) my first story, and I sort of couldn't grasp all the possibilities of what may happen to put into a tangible.. er.. thing. Anywho. So.. There were like a bazillion ways that the whole concept (e.g. Max + Fang not knowing what puberty is) could've gone.

This is one. Remember though, **it never happened.**

This redirect in particular, is what I would've written in the particular case that: Max continued on 'helping' Fang, not knowing what it is that she was doing, and they eventually just have sex, just by instinct. Later on they'd find out what it is sex is. However, they don't fully understand the implications of it, and continue doing it.

This is a little scene I had had in mind in that possible route. So if the story had gone that way.. this would've been a scene in it.

Mind you, **this never happened**, cause I tried to have some semblance of rationality in the story.. Anywho.. read, and enjoy? ;]

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**Love.**

"Ugh, Fang," Max breathed quietly. She felt sweat on the inside of her neck, as Fang pushed in from her from behind.

"Be quiet, Max," he slowly uttered out, between heavy breaths and dark groans.

In, out.

In.

Out.

Fang's penis slid in and out of her smoothly, from behind. She couldn't see anything behind her, and couldn't feel anything but the feeling of Fang's penis going in, and out of her. When would he stop? When would they _finally_ reach.. there..

"Max, Can I come in?" a delicate voice asked through the door. There was slight knocking on the door. It was Angel.

"Shit," Fang breathed slowly, his breathing heavy. He slipped out of me quickly, and then fell over onto my other side, falling off the side of my bed and quickly rolling beneath it. He couldn't let her see him like that, sweaty, hard, on top of me in my room. I thought about myself, my breasts hanging freely, completely unclothed. I was clad in my birthday suit. I was also kneeling on all fours, my butt still poised up, as if Fang was about to insert into me any second.

"One second, honey," I called out, "I'm changing," I said, removing myself from the position. Crap, this was Angel. She would know.. unless she was delightfully listening to me for once, and keeping her mind closed.

"Okay, Max," she called out, well, angelically. It made me feel all the worse for lying, and all the more _guilty _for what we were doing.

Suddenly, rapidly, incredibly, sex seemed like _such_ a dirty thing. Afterall.. all it was for.. was for _pleasure. _

Sheer, utter, complete.. _pleasure_. It wasn't even _necessary_, it was a _want_, a _need_. It was to satiate our lust and our hormones.. Fang's thick, throbbing penis, probing into my wet, and ready vagina.

That was all it was: dirty, _lust_-_driven, _sex.

Angel came and left. I laid back on the bed after a while, watching her leave and shut the door behind her, relieved. I heard Fang roll out from underneath the bed and sigh deeply before getting up on the bed behind me again.

I was lying down now, turned to the side. Fang was beside me, behind me, lying down too. He was completely naked. His hand gently cupped my waist, and then slid them down to my hips. His lithe fingers slowly dragged the t-shirt up as he ran his hand over and up my curves again, and I limply lifted my arms up as he lifted the shirt off.

It was quiet.

He slowly and gently unhooked my bra, then slid the straps down, uncupping them from my breasts. He accommodated everything around me, gently sliding his hands beneath the bed to cup my other hip as he undid the button on my jeans. It was when he had began to slide them off me and only gotten a few inches down, that he suddenly stopped.

He had realized how still I had been the entire time.

The whole time, I had been silent and complacent, while he had been busy returning me to the state of undress that I had been in before Angel came in. He hadn't gotten satisfied then. I had been letting him play with me, do whatever he wanted, undress me, but thats all.. I had been letting him do it, rather disinterested myself. I had been turned away, faced in the other direction, my back to him, as he had been slowly, gently, and lightly stripping my clothes off me. He stopped once he had noticed this, while slipping my jeans off. He stopped once he got two inches down my thighs. He took his hands off his skin and brought them back to himself, his scathingly unclothed figure lying on the bed beside me. He was waiting for me to explain.

I was still turned on my side, facing the opposite direction. He took his hands off me.

"Why do we have sex..?" I asked into the darkness, to him.

"What?" he asked monotonously into the dark after a while, his voice cutting the silence, like a knife.

Somehow, his voice scared me. It was unnerving. I wondered what I had wanted to say. He wondered what I wanted to say.

"_This_." I said, going off on a whim, and stressing what we were doing now. I kicked my jeans off now, in agitation, having had them half way down my legs, before Fang had left them to the side, noticing my stillness. Now, all I had on was a pair of underwear, light green.

I turned over from the side to face up, lying directly on the bed on my back. I faced up into the ceiling.. just waiting.

Why did we do it? Why did we have sex? Afterall, we _did_. We had sex. That was a statement, an infinate one. Not that we had had it once, but we had it—in general. We_ had _sex. Every nook and cranny under which we live, we've had under it before. We weren't sex-crazed animals or anything.. its just that we _had_ it, in general. We did it frequently. We _have _sex. It.. it was fact. Fang and I.. have sex.. This was.. no new development. It was something old. We have sex. We just have it.

I felt Fang turn on his side too, facing me now. His left arm swung over himself to reach my left breast. He massaged it softly and thoroughly, flicking the nipple on top thoughtfully. I remembered the first time he had ever done so. '_You like it, don't you?' _he had said to me. I had blushed thoroughly.

Now, I just continued staring straight ahead, to the end of the bed, feeling Fang's fingers on me. I stared past the bedpost, to the door through which Angel had come in, the same one she had left out of.

Fang tweaked and played with my nipple carefully. I didn't even blush. It felt good, and I knew it.

He knew I knew.

"Why do we do _this_?" I asked him again thoroughly. Quieter, this time, though. I reached down to place a finger on the tip end of his hardening penis, curiously. He continued playing with my nipple. He was deep in thought.

At the question, he had slid his hand down to rest ontop of my flat belly, just as my hand had started pressing into the tip of his penis. He had instinctively jerked slightly at the rigid contact, but then calmed down again, as I started massaging the head.

"Why do we do it..?" he repeated silently after me, as if asking himself the same question, he felt me massage him. He groaned slightly, feeling me rub him harder. I let go of him suddenly and turned on my side again, giving him my back, suddenly. I wanted him to focus, cause I wanted the answer.

Why did we do it? It was so heated, it was _so_ intense, it was _so_ ferocious. It was sticky, and sick, and stomach-hurdling, mind-blowing. It was _so_ freaking _heated_. We did it _so_ often, and every chance we got, away from the flock, secluded in our little worlds, just breathing deep into eachother. Our eyes closed in ecstasy, our hearts pounding deep as we would slide against eachother thoroughly, my nipples quivering as he would reach down and rub a spot on me, below me, that would make me see lights. He knew it all. Thrusting in and out, we would groan. Rubbing against eachother.. thats.. what we liked. The feeling. We did it like animals. Like instinct.

Thats what it was on--instinct. But I wanted an answer.

"Why do we _do_ it?" I asked again.

"We do it because it _feels good," _Fang whispered out to me, in my ear. I suddenly felt his hand snake over my side onto my waist. He pushed himself forward against me, so that my back lay against his chest now. I could feel his hard, impatient penis, nudge my buttcheek, as he leaned closer into me.

"We do it because we _like _to. We do it because we _need_ to," he suddenly said to me.

What?

I felt his loving grip on my tummy loosen, as he just gripped it loosely now. His eyes had closed, and his breathing grew deeper. He was moving behind me, on the bed behind me. He was passionately, loosely gripping me, rubbing himself against me. His penis lay behind me, rubbing up and down, as his eyes closed, on my skin.

His breathing deepened and his grip suddenly tightened on me. His neck suddenly jerked down to dig his face into the crook of my neck now. For some reason now, my breathing quickened too, as I felt him move against me. His penis was rubbing up against me, he held the swell of my lower back, gently carressing my butt cheek, even daring to run up and down the line of seperation between the two. He was breathing deeply, very deeply, and his eyes were closed tightly, as all he focused on was getting rid of the ache, the itch. He rubbed against me passionately, now holding me tightly against him, right under my breasts, pushing them up on my chest. I was held tight against him.

Like a dog humping on a pole, thats what he was doing to me—wrought by ecstasy, and wrought by need. He suddenly lifted his hand a few inches from the tighthold to grab my breast and squeeze hard. He was close, I could tell, at his pace. I screamed at the sudden impact of his hand squeezing me, but it feeling good right now.

"You _make_ me _hard," _he growled into my ear tightly and anguishedly, "thats why we _do it._"

"You make me hard, and I want to touch you so bad," he continued, now moving up to twist my nipple in between his fingers. He was still pushing against me, rythmically, rubbing up and down. Like a desperate toad on the back of some other frog, he was holding me, and humping up and down on my behind.

"--that its like a need. Cause.. cause every time I used to think about you, my penis got all hard, and I—I couldn't help it, I just _needed_ you near me, bad. _And it_ _felt_ _good."_

He came. All over my back, and breathing hoarsely. He finally let go of my chest and laid back on the bed, his chest heaving up and down, and semen spread over some of his thighs. He looked up at the ceiling, still breathing deeply.

I was breathing deeply too, but I wasn't quite sure why. I could still feel his handprint, squeezing roughly on my left boob with his right hand twisted under and around me. I leaned back to face forward too, feeling all the semen spread over my butt and my back squishing and melting below me, behind me. I rubbed it on the sheets up and down below me.

"Why do we have sex, Max?" he repeated himself quietly, seeming calm down now.

"Why do we have sex, Max?" he seemed to _actually_ ask now. I opened my mouth but nothing came out, before he cut me off.

"Because I get hard thinking of you, and have to. Because I _like_ feeling your chest, and your butt, and your waist, and your hips," he said breathlessly.

"Because I love touching you, and I can't help it. Because I love seeing your chest jiggle in front of me," he said strangely, "because I like the sounds you make when you're underneath me, and I love it when I _know_ you want me."

"Because all those things, make me hard as heck, and make it _feel_ _good_." He finally finished. Then he turned to me, turning on his side, and trying to look me in the eye.

"Now. Why do _you_ have sex?"

It was quiet for a moment. I soaked in the info.

His answer.. it was not what I was looking for. Obviously, he had just considered this question to be one of those things he had just needed to get done--like reassure me, or give me a boost of self-esteem or confidence or something. A little reminder, or something. But thats not what I was looking for. The big monologue was a pleasant surprise, and his confessions _had_ surprised me, but it still wasn't what I was looking for.

My question was entirely different. I took a deep breath and mulled it over, wondering how to explain to him what I was asking. His eyebrows furrowed from beside me, as he looked down on me, observing my delicately concentrating face.

I took a moment before I spoke.

"I dunno. It feels.. sort of _dirty," _I said after a while, sending him a shifty glance, "It.. it feels so good.. but somehow, it sort of feels dirty." Fang looked at me worriedly for a second.

"How?" he suddenly asked gently, his hands lifting up to caress my waist gently. His voice was very soft and quiet now. He looked quite concerned, worried. I took a deep breath, and sighed.

"Like.. like when you pump in and out of me.. It.. it feels good, but it almost feels.. dirty, and gross.. like we shouldn't be doing something like that." Fang looked alarmed and suddenly doubtful all of a sudden.

"No--no.. Its not because of you. It was all my idea in the first place," I reminded him urgently, yet carefully, "Remember?"

Afterall. I _had_ been the one to suggest sticking his penis in my vagina, to make him feel better. It was only later we'd figured out what "feeling better" really meant, was orgasm.

"Its just that.. Angel came in.. and then, I just got reminded.. by all this," I explained myself softly, looking away from him, "She doesn't know what any of this feels like.. yet _we do it_. We do it a lot, because we _want _it."

I twiddled my fingers around a little edge of bedsheet on the corner, still faced and looking away from him, as I spoke, "Its almost intoxicating, and its just.. pure desire, pure _want_, and we keep doing it, because we keep liking it or not. And Angel and the kids... don't know a thing about this stuff, or the feelings you and I go through in the nights.."

"We _want _to reach that feeling, like you just did," I embellished at the end. Fang stilled for a moment, thinking about it. He seemed less altogether regretful now, but more concerned, about me. Almost as if he had just suddenly figured out what it was that I was despairing over this whole time.

"But its different Max.. its more than just _want,_" he suddenly said softly.

"Its about sharing too.. and, and _giving._" he finished abruptly, as if it had just simply occured to him, and was now simply finite.

"What?" I asked him confusedly.

"Its about _giving, _and _sharing _something, Max," he repeated again patiently. He brought his closer hand up around me, and stroked his fingers through the hair, getting some tangles out as he waited for me to think.

I lay there, thinking about it for a moment, Fang's other hand still lying gently ontop of my stomach, rubbing back and forth gently and he watched me think about it.

We were still naked, ready for sex on the bed, but not having it.

"I get what we're giving.. thats why it feels good _together_, but what're we _sharing_?" I asked him.

The atmosphere was still for a silent second right then. Fang's expression suddenly changed then.

"_A_sk yourself that," he said, sounding rather agitated, and getting up from the bed.

Standing up in front of it, the crinkled white sheets on top, he suddenly turned around to face me. Grabbing my neck, he pulled me up against him harshly, kissing me, hard. It was as if he was trying to ground something hard, deep within my skull.

"Ask _yourself_ that," he repeatedly softly again, his eyes now flaming in anger and disbelief.

He threw on his jeans and picking up his shirt from the floor, put it on. He then quietly walked away from the bed and me, closing the door behind him.

My question had made him angry, but I didn't know why. _What are we sharing_?

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**A-N/:**

Ooh, I'm gettin' corny on ya' aren't i? ;]

I've got like 4 or 5 of these little spin-offs, but I'm not sure if I'll post them up. Like this one, they're all half-patched, mediocre, corny, and/or nonsensical e.g. mushy-gushy/OOC.

Hm. Woah. Okay. Anywho.

IF YOU GUYS WANT TO SEE MORE, REVIEW!


	2. Helping Iggy : Pt 1

**It never happened.**

**And there are two parts to this one. This is the first one (obviously). **

**You could say that its IggyxMax, but I'm no particular Miggy fan.**

**In any case, all it does is lead to some good old, hardcore FAX.**

**Max isn't doing this to Iggy because she _likes_ him. Feelings aren't really involved here.**

**Jealousy, and possesiveness is though.. but thatll be more explored in the next part.**

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**Helping Iggy. (Part One).  
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"Ughh," Max groaned, as her face contorted in a grimace of both pleasure and pain, as she sunk herself down into the depth of Iggy's enlarged penis. Her eyes were shut tight.

Iggy moaned in pleasure as Max began to go up and down on him.

"M-maax, wh-what're you doin'?" Iggy gasped, between his throes of what was beknownst to him, as ecstasy.

Max was breathing heavily, beads of sweat rolled down from her collarbone, down towards the line of cleavage of her breasts, swinging freely, cavernously, from the height which she was raised at.

She was gripping the sheets in the space between Iggy's seperated knees, she rode him up and down, her undulating butt facing Iggy's sightless eyes. Her fists clutched the mattress and the bedsheets, gripping them tightly, her thumbs touching each other in the space between Iggy's knees.

She was sitting on his stiff, and upright penis, long and gorged, right on his lap.

The painful entrance of his penis into her vagina.. it hurt her, but she reveled in the pain.. somehow—she liked it. The stinging up in the center, the feeling that moving her sore abdomen, inundated with the intrusive length of Iggy's penis, would kill her.. somehow, she liked it. She liked the uncomfortable stinging, she liked the uncomfortable, stinging pain, which made her feel like her endometrium walls were about to tear, explode, and bleed at any second.

Iggy was hurting her.. _so_ much.. but somehow, she liked the pain. The uncomfortable longing, and the pointy thing sticking up her cervix, made her feel like blood was leaking out of her fallopian tubing. She felt like crying, but she liked the pain.

Fang wasn't like this—he held a lot more pleasure, so much _thicker_, with _technique_, so _big_but he wasn't long; he was _thick _and tight. Fang had a lot of girth on his penis, and knew how to pleasure her, make her sigh estatically and writhe uncontrollably beside him in impatience and frustration. Fang's penis could making her feel fireworks rocket up her abdomen. But Iggy.. Iggy was just _long_.

It gave her so much pain.. but she liked it.

Her elbows quivered, shaking slightly over the elevated height over the thighs of Iggy's. He was gasping and breathing hard behind her, wondering what she was doing to him, and why he heard pained, throaty sobs coming from her. He didn't know it was because she was enjoying it so much.

She stayed there for a moment, unmoving, just sitting on top of his large penis, gasping at the throbs of pain which were shooting up her vaginal walls to her intestines, caused by Iggy's engorged penis. She felt like throwing up, he was so _long _and big. There was an uneasy quake in her stomach, and she felt just about ready to get sick and throw up at any moment, the feeling of his penis just resounding within her. But she knew she couldn't—she liked it so much. The small hinting of the pain, the stings, like a small, slow knife was cutting a circle somewhere in middle of her hips and her cervix—that was what his penis felt like inside of her. She loved it so much—the _pain._

She gasped once more, before closing her eyes tightly again, and propelling herself forward and up through her fists, which were resting on the mattress between his knees and thighs. She had learned that move from Fang—going forward, and up, like undulatingaround on him, similar to how a washing machine would churned.

She had once reached an orgasm just by sitting down ontop of a running washing machine. She would reach out so that the metal top made contact with her inner vaginal nerves as she sat onto of it, with no protective layer between the enthralling cold vibrations of the metal and herself. She had closed her eyes and slipped her hands up her shirt, squeezing her breasts in sync with the vibrations of the churning machine, as Fang had slightly steered her hips around in slow circle ontop of the machine, watching her slowly jacking herself off on the vibrations. She had reached an incredible orgasm with the help of Fang there. And it had been so kinky too; there was no doubt she was turned on by the fact that he had been helping her reach that by herself, alone.

Iggy groaned loudly from beneath her when he felt her move. It had made her feel good too, and now there was an inkling of sparkling masochism coating the pain in her stomach.

She knew that with every move, the feeling would just get bigger, and bigger, as she reached closer to orgasm, and he, too.

"Ahh.." she groaned, as she moved up and down once more. She was going extra-slowly, this was his first time, and hers too with him. He didn't know what to do or expect, so she was making sure to go slowly, and make him revel in all the pleasures of all the pain.

Though, she doubted there was any pain on his part. Probably just pleasure. So she corrected himself—she had never felt pain in this way before, not since Fang had first penetrated her, but this was different.

This pain was reaching up past her cervix, to her intenstines.

Before, Fang had hurt her, as intention, to make her get used to the pain.

He hadn't had the capability to hurt her, but had been trying to, purposely.

But.. but Iggy was different. He was hurting her simply because his penis was so long. It reached up way back inside of her. Maybe she shouldn't've tried to sit on his pelvic mound—that caused his penis to find itself way up past her insides. Sitting on his hips was painful for her, especially if his penis was inundated inside her.

At first it had hurt a lot; when she tried to relaxed with him, the pain still remained, but soon, she got used to it and the pain got _delicious. _

Using her wrists to propell her forward, she began rocking forward and behind on Iggy's hips. She focused on the feeling of her butt rubbing against his lower abdomen; she was slowly and sensuously rubbing back and forth on his upper abdomen, to his lower abdomen, as if she was _slowly _trying to get rid of a particularly hard-to-rub stain.

And also, because she knew he'd love it. From that time he had felt up her breasts, and rubbed and nicked her buttocks, she knew he'd love it. He liked how _soft_ she was, and she knew, self admittedly, that her butt was the softest part of her. So she rubbed it against him slowly and torturously, on his lap, and he rocked his penis back and forth against her, trying to get the gist of how things were working around them.

Iggy quieted intensely, as he focused on pleasuring her, hearing mewls of pleasure from her in surprise satisfaction, as he did so with his long, stark erection. The friction it provided within her, as he moved, was unexpectedly news to him, in pleasuring her. It hit her clitoris each and everytime, and she let out a groan every time, which slowly turned into gasps, as she began to go quicker and quicker, reveling in the feeling of the quick clitoris stimulation against his penis as they rocked back and forth together, ontop of him.

Iggy soon slipped his hands up to grip the back of her hips behind her waist, right above the butt which he was facing. Slowly, he was focusing her movements and guiding her slowly over him.

Soon, their groans and gasps turned into loud, enthralled moans and groans of ecstasy. And the door was open.

And she had told the kids to stay downstairs, but the door was open.

And through the slip in the door, Fang was watching them, his eyes clouded over and slowly lidded darkly as he slowly watched Max sitting on top of Iggy, riding him.

Iggy had been lying flat down ontop of the bed, completely undressed. Max, too, was completely naked, her breasts swinging too and and fro as she leaned over his legs, propelled up by her fists, resting on the mattress between his legs.

Max was completely undressed, unlike the way she had ever been completely undressed with _him_. Why was she completely undressed with _Iggy? _Max had never been completely undressed with _him, _whenever _they'd _done it together. It was always.. just partially this, or partially that. But.. but Iggy got the priviledge to feel her _entirely unclothed _sweat-dripping body?

Her head was thrown back and up, her medium-length blonde hair trailing down her back. The veins in her neck could be seen through her throaty groans and delightful screams, the neck was stretched tight, her boobs thrust forward to facing Iggy's feet.

Her incredibly arched back was facing Iggy's face and chest, but he knew it was better because Iggy loved particularly liked feeling her butt—which he noticed, was rubbing erotically against his entire abdomen, as she rubbed against him slowly and tightly, as they rocked forward.

He casually observed the base of Iggy's pale pink penis, reddening in all the blood rushing through it, conjoined by Max's heart-shaped vagina. The sight of Iggy's small base of penis raised and lowered slightly by an inch, as Max's vagina moved in and out of it.

The image was erotic, it was so stimulating. Sure, Fang felt himself get hard, but he was angry. So angry.

He watched them quietly, through dark, half lidded eyes, before finally closing his eyes resolutely, his erection throbbing painfully within his pants, and before turning around and walking away from that room, his eyes still closed.

He went down the stairs with a dark look gleaming in his eyes, to find the three kids sitting around the living room couches, watching a bunch of tv. Gazzy was complaining because he didn't want to watch Barney, but Nudge ignored him and continued staring at the tv, enthralled. Angel was giggling enthusiastically at something the big fat pink dinosaur had said. The tv could amuse them for hours—at least when they liked what they were watching.

Gazzy wasn't, of course. He wanted to watch a Transformers cartoon, and was whining and complaining, yet still completely ignored by his fellow younger siblings.

Gazzy heard Fang quietly come and quickly twisted his neck to turn around, not being insightful enough, the child he was, to catch the murderous, dark look on his older-brother-figure's face.

"Faaang—" he whined, "tell Max to come down, so she can tell them to let me watch Transformers," he whined.

Fang's face didn't change as he listened to Gazzy's request.

"Your _mother-figure_, _Gaz, _is currently upstairs, giving _your brother-figure_, _Iggy, _a _handjob, _except instead of with her _face _or _mouth _or even her _hands, _she's using her _vagina,_" he said in his head.

"Its gonna be a while," Fang dismissed quietly, the ominous statement meaning more than one thing, as thoughts circled around his head quickly. Ignoring Gazzy, he walked away from the face of the den, to the kitchen.

There his plot was spinning around in his head murderously, while he opened the fridge angrily and looked around.

Mayonnaise, he considered. No, he decided, that wouldn't work.

He turned 45 degrees and instead faced the cabinet shelves high up above the sink, staring at them intently while thinking, before going up to open one. He brought out the tub of vaseline.

And he felt his underwear wetten a little bit at a spot, as he released some pre-cum fluid. Just the thought of him.. doing.. he'd never tried it before.. it got him hot and wet.. thinking of what he was about to try and do..

But he put his mind off it and looked around the kitchen some more.

His eyes found the blender. Now, Iggy wasn't the only one who knew about nicknacks and how the world and electronics worked. He began to undo the outer workings of the blender and looked at the parts around him, finally calculating something in his head and picking the one instrument part which would suited his intentions right.

He tested it out on his palm and felt himself getting a little harder at the feeling of it undulating around on his palm.

And then he turned around faced the fridge again, getting something out of it.

Fang would make Max _scream_.

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**Review if you wanna see the next part; Fax.**


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